No Means No
by RochelleRene
Summary: A reboot of allthingsdecent's "The Bathroom." Her fics are delightful... Except for one little but important thing. LOL


**This is a reboot of allthingsdecent 's fic "The Bathroom" which I teased her about because of a fully unsatisfying sex scene with such an awesome idea. LOL. I'm rebooting it with her blessing.**

**[H] [H] [H]**

Cuddy saw House out of the corner of her eye and raced down the hallway to catch up with him.

"Looks like someone's anxious to see me," he said. He looked at his watch. "Okay, if you insist, a quickie in your office in 5."

"Freckles is missing," she said, ignoring him.

"How terribly tragic," House said.

"Do you even know who Freckles is?"

"Not a clue."

"Phil Larkin's cat."

"Okay, I'll play along. Who's Phil Larkin?"

"Really, House? Your patient? The guy you just cured?"

"Oh yeah. After I've diagnosed them, their names tend to be even less relevant than while I'm diagnosing them."

"Anyway, Freckles is an indoor cat."

"Then he couldn't have gotten very far."

"No, actually, he could have. Because somebody let him out of the house."

"Who would do a thing like that?"

"I don't know, House. Maybe some sort of rogue medical team that breaks into homes while searching for clues?"

"You mean the kind of clues that save people's lives?"

He was limping along rather quickly, which really was an exercise in futility. Even at a slow pace, in heels, Cuddy could keep up with him.

"Didn't you even notice that the cat got out when you opened the door?" she said.

"I did feel something small and cuddly rub up against my leg," House said. "But I thought it was Masters."

"So what are you planning on doing about Freckles?"

"I don't know? Light a candle for him? Tie a yellow ribbon around an old oak tree?"

"Larkin is threatening to sue."

"You've got to be kidding."

"No, House. It's a beloved family pet."

"The cat has probably moved on up. To a deluxe apartment in the sky. Larkin's house was sort of a shithole."

They had arrived at the men's room door.

"Would love to continue this chat, Cuddy, but duty calls," he said.

"House, we're not done."

"Actually, we are. Sorry, but no girls allowed… And I know how important rules are to you." He gave her a pitiful look.

She stared him down. "I _will _follow you."

House chuckled and rolled his eyes as he backed through the door. "No you won't."

Without hesitating, she burst through the door behind him.

"You can't be here, Cuddy" he said, genuinely surprised.

"Actually I can, House. My hospital. My men's room."

They faced each other. A stand-off.

"That's all fine and dandy," he replied, "But you following me into the men's room gives me ideas. And ideas cause situations. Situations that inhibit my ability to pee."

A toilet flushed and a stall door swung open. Dr. Alan Wong, the bespectacled infectious disease specialist emerged, looking nervous.

"Excuse me," he said. He ducked quickly past them and left.

"Sorry Alan," Cuddy called after him.

She looked back up at House, who was standing with his arms folded.

"Now see what you've done," House said. "Our infectious disease guy just forgot to wash his hands."

"I'll be sure to buy him some Purell," Cuddy said. "Now, where were we?"

House grinned at her.

"We were discussing your pussy."

"Clever, House. . . Yes, Freckles the cat."

"That's not what I meant."

She felt that little coil begin. Dammit. "I know what _you_ meant," she replied, "But I was discussing the missing cat."

House nodded thoughtfully as he stepped toward her. He heard the tiny bit of a rasp that had entered her voice. He saw her pulse increase when he looked at her neck. Sometimes being a doctor rocked. "Okay," he said, gently grabbing her hips and guiding her back against a sink. "Tell me everything again. Just the facts."

"House," she said, setting her jaw and giving him a glare… But not squirming away.

"You know what's hot?" House said. "You, standing here in the men's room, alone with me, while the hospital is just innocently going about its business." He bent slightly to hook his fingers under the hem of her skirt. He started inching it up, pressing his fingers into her thighs as he went. Cuddy started lamely pushing his hands downward, in a pretty transparent false protest. "We're alone…" House gathered both her hands in his own and pulled them up to his mouth, kissing them, restraining them. "In a forbidden place…" With his other hand he hiked her skirt up around her waist. "And I'm about to touch you in another forbidden place."

"No, you're not," Cuddy stated, making an angry face. But her mouth was open and she was practically panting.

House reached under her skirt and moved her panties aside.

"No, House, stop," she gasped.

In all the years he had known Cuddy, he had categorized her different versions of "no" into – thus far – 16 types. Four of them were primarily used in sexual situations. One was the classic giggling no-but-I-mean-yes no. Easy. One had a high-pitch edge to it and was followed a disgusted click of the tongue. Bummer no. That one meant not a chance, and you turned me off even asking. One had a role-playing sort of vibe. She'd purse her lips and smirk. She'd be playing the challenging boss, but clearly tolerate his blatant disregard for her authority.

This no was his favorite no, though. It was the "I've never done this because I'm not the type, but maybe I'd be the type if I was with the right person, and by God I think you're the right person" no. She didn't want to _want_ to have sex with him in the men's room… But she did.

He ran his fingers along her heat. "I'm getting the sense you don't _actually_ want me to stop."

"That door could swing open at any moment," he whispered. "And we'd get caught."

"Mmm-hmm," he agreed. He slid his fingers inside her and released her hands. He hooked his free arm around her waist and lifted her up to perch on the sink's edge.

Cuddy sighed in a combined expression of exasperation and lust. "There's no plausible excuse. It's clear what we're doing."

"It is." He started unbuttoning the top buttons of her blouse. "Anyone who walked in would clearly see that I'm about to fuck you." His voice was soft, growly in her ear.

"House. . ." He cupped on e of her breasts, running his thumb over her nipple through her bra. "Let's at least go inside one of the stalls," she breathed.

"No," he said. He unbuttoned his jeans. "I'm too into this. I can see both sides of you at once cuz of this mirror."

"House, what if someone comes in. . ."

House paused for a moment, seeing that her panic was crossing from erotic into buzzkill territory."Cuddy," he looked her right in the eyes "Trust me," he said.

She was still a little wide-eyed as he pushed inside her, but he saw her eyes roll a little her head fell back as he started moving inside her. Her hands gripped the sink edge, holding her steady. House held her hips and felt her wrap her legs around him, digging her heels into his ass and urging him on.

He abruptly paused all movement. "I can stop if you really want me to, Cuddy." He gave her a serious look that he was able to hold for about 2.5 seconds before the smirk started emerging.

Cuddy looked at him with unparalleled frustration.

"I mean, if you're not into this," he pushed himself slo-o-o-wly into her again, "I don't wanna make you do anything that makes you…" - another slow thrust – "…uncomfortable."

Cuddy's arms were stiff as she braced herself, trying to force herself forward, needing the friction of him more than air. "I can't even hear what you're saying, you jackass," she hissed at him. He grinned.

House moved his hands to rest over hers on the sink. He leaned to kiss her while they fucked and she sucked his bottom lip a little in this way she knew made him crazy. Here was this tiny woman, physically hemmed in by him as he held her steady with little effort, but she was wily enough to remind him that she knew how to make him succumb too. He was so turned on, he _almost_ let down the vigilant guard she trusted him to keep, but not quite. When he heard footsteps in the hall he was ready and as the men's room door just began to inch open he tapped ninja-like reflexes to fling his cane out against the door, holding it shut.

Cuddy looked at him with panic, but he didn't stop moving.

"Occupied!" he bellowed.

"The whole bathroom?" Wilson asked, incredulous.

House smiled ear to ear. This was just too perfect. Messing with Wilson and nailing Cuddy at the same time. If he was playing the piano he'd be in nirvana.

"I need my space, Wilson." He grinned at Cuddy who was in a bizarre state of vigilance and abandon.

There was another push against the door. "House, come on. I gotta piss." House grabbed Cuddy around the waist again and started pulling her to him with the rhythm of his movements. Cuddy looked at him with that look: The I'm about-to-feel-something-incredible-and-I-am-impatient-for-the-5-more-seconds-it-is-going-to-take look. He lived for that look. "Sorry, Wilson. Got some issues in here."

There was a pause… Wait for it…

"Normal issues or some kind of weird Housian issue?" The adrenaline of almost getting caught mixed with the sexual build-up and Cuddy came with such an outrageous suddenness and power she almost fell into the sink. "House?" Wilson called again. Cuddy bent toward him and bit his shoulder. Hard. He felt her muscles contracting all around him, her legs squeezing his pelvis. He saw himself doing her in the mirror. She let the tiniest peep slip through and the sound of her, even that little hint of her pleasure, did him in. House came with a loud groan, concentrating only on the feeling of Cuddy's sex around him and on keeping that damn door shut.

"Jesus, House are you okay?" Wilson asked.

As they calmed down, House fought the light-headedness enough to stay standing while Cuddy quickly started gathering them both, stowing body parts, buttoning buttons, and smoothing wrinkles. He just stood there, blissed out.

"Oh Cuddy, you're a very very bad Dean of Medicine," he whispered.

She smiled and kissed him lightly as she hopped down from the sink. "I guess I'll have to be reprimanded later," she whispered back.

"My God, you are seriously the hottest fucking woman on the planet," he said, almost in awe.

He watched her walk to the door. He raised his eyebrows at her, then lowered his cane. She opened the door and slunk past Wilson, eyes cast downward and a smile playing on her lips. Wilson registered who just walked by and walked into the bathroom to see House standing at a urinal. He held his arms out and widened his eyes in his patented _What happened? _pose.

"Finally, she left!" House rolled his eyes at Wilson. "I can't pee in front of her."

"Did you just…?"

"What? No, Wilson. She's the Dean of Medicine." House zipped and walked to the sink - the same sink - to wash his hands. "You think she's gonna have sex in a men's room?" He grabbed some paper towel. "She'd have to hike her skirt up… Sit on a dirty sink… Worry about someone coming in…" He laughed quietly. Wilson just stood there staring at him. 'I thought you had to piss?" House reminded him.

"I, um…"

House laughed and walked to the door. "Yeah, she has that effect."


End file.
